


Truant

by Luthiere



Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:12:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthiere/pseuds/Luthiere
Summary: ''he wanted to rot more than your teeth with each kiss and wanted more than just holding you by the ribs - your heart certainly beat - thrumming beneath thin skin and asking to be caught. it wouldn't take much, not really.''





	1. Prologue

**THE DEMONS** revere Karlheinz. It is a privilege to walk into his castle - the diamond chandeliers hang in clusters from far too grand ceilings, the floor is polished marble, encrusted with jewels - just like the walls. It must be ageless. It is grand and over the top, like most of the things in this world. You despise it all.

You especially despise the way bodies clump in the gardens. The trees are gorged and full, eternally in autumnal colors; it is not because of the blood, but because your master has a fixation for strange tastes. You’ve become used to the stench of rot. But you are not used yet to the sight of blank faced corpses and their broken limbs.

In the end, nothing will be wasted. Someone will come fix the mess, eventually. Eventually. Karlheinz despises imperfection.

You remind this to yourself as you walk to his chambers. The thought that thousands would kill to be in your place almost makes you laugh. It is the knot in your throat prevents you from choking out a syllable. You really should be taking this more calmly. It is fate. It is fate. It is—

The doors are at the very least two floors tall. They shift slightly for you - and you step in.

He’s waiting. At the end of the room, past the towering shelves of tomes and memoirs and papers that date back to the origins of writing - he sits on a wide throne. But it’s a mere library chair. You stop beside his desk and entertain yourself by looking at the small trinkets lining the front.

A skull. A few scrolls. A letter. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“[Name].” He gently put down his book, turned to you and smiled. A soft smile. You felt like running.

“I was told you called me,” you managed to utter.

“I have a gift for you.” He took the letter you’d been looking at, tracing the seal. “Take it as a token of goodwill. You’ve been a good daughter, and …”

He extended the envelope to you.

“…like any father does, I wish a bright future for you.”

You don’t know what game he’s playing at - you both know he’s nothing close to a ‘father’ - but you take that slip, anyway. You bite. You have no other choice.

“I’m sure you remember when I told you the importance of human emotions, yes? Hate. Pleasure. Sadness. … That curious thing called ‘love’ … I’ve probably beaten it into your head by now.” In a flash, he stood in front you, hands on your shoulders. You could’ve mistaken his fingers for claws. “You’ve never disappointed me, child—and that is why I want you to go to the human world.”

When he moves past you, you realize you’ve been holding your breath. You turn to see the doors open, but this time they slam against the walls - he’s sending you away. By the time you step back outside, a faint laughter reaches your ears along with the empty, resounding sound of shutting doors. A butler comes to your side, like a shadow.

“There is a carriage waiting for you,” he’s kind enough to explain. You don’t know how you should be feeling. Elated? Relieved? Saddened? You know there were many before you — that you still had a twin a month ago - but they are all dead, now. They were all 'failures'.

You feel disgusted as you realize there's a rush in your steps. And yet, was it a sin to want to live one more day?


	2. Broken Bones

**THE SAKAMAKI HOUSEHOLD**  lived off of shadows. Shadows of servants. Shadows of hungry children. Karlheinz used to mock them, like he mocked the whole world. Inside your suitcases were instructions. Deliver the letter to the oldest; you are not a sacrifice. Protect Yui Komori. Do not die.

You didn't know what to make of it. If he didn't want 'Yui' to be eaten alive, he should've made a direct order - not send you away. The Sakamaki sons were synonymous with death and torture. Words simple enough to keep everyone at a certain distance - or at least, anyone who wanted to keep themselves sane. If vampires could be called sane.

You didn't want to move from the garden, even though you needed to walk up the entryway and knock. It was the most rational thing to do. . . . But someone was already feeding, inside. The stench of blood was almost palpable. You could taste the iron in the air.

It was the hunger affecting you.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you looked at one of the pictures - a surprising touch from Karl - and had to wonder. The girl was smiling at something, Bible in her arms. What was she? Where from? Human or . . .?

Human. Sacrificial brides are always of the lesser race. They never knew better.

It took an instant to slam the doors open - a few seconds to dart down halls and broken walls - and finally you arrived to a grand hall made for balls and feasts. The shadows turned towards you - the moonlight fell on their faces. Slits for pupils. Mouths lined by sharp and white teeth. It all struck a contrast against the crimson staining their faces. Broken glass cracked under your feet.

On the arms of - Ayato? Laito? - lied a girl. Her gaze. unfocused at first, slowly traveled up your face. There were tears in those eyes. Yui Komori, right there and then, was terrified of everything. And you understood. A blade fled past your cheek, drawing blood and cutting part of your ear. One was already lodged in your thigh. Reiji Sakamaki was ready to plunge to knife into your throat. His free hand - cold as ice - held one side of your head. You could feel his nails digging onto your scalp.

"Don't you know a thing about manners?"

"Karlheinz," you say - and you lift the letter, crumpled in your hand - but from his father, nonetheless. And if rumors were to be trusted, then not even his sons would dare defy that monster. Reiji then spoke, envelope already on the floor and letter in hand.

"It is from him."

You took the blade from your leg, put it on one of the tables lining the way. Even though he was preoccupied with something else, the ghost if his grip didn't go away. He could've broken your bones with that hand.

"Well, then? What does he say now?" The voice is almost a laugh. The owner is staring at you, fixedly. Laito. Of course this man is Laito. 

Ayato leaned away from the girl's neck - didn't try to stop her from falling to the ground. She crumpled down, like a rag doll, and quietly curled up. Her hands clasped together, and her mouth moved, soundlessly.

"One of you must've angered him." Ayato's voice was lofty, drawling the words, wiping his mouth. 

Reiji passed a hand through his hair. "This thing is a watcher.

"And one with a lack of respect, too . . . "

A hand softly fell on your forearm, dragging itself up your shoulder - Laito's breath was close by your ear.

"What a waste for such a pretty girl." His other hand traveled up your waist. "Mais maintenant il y a deux putes."

And then he bit you. 

And maybe he expected something from you.

But you only felt cold.

"You have no scent nor shadow. Judging from your reaction towards Laito, biting does not affect you - not even pain." Reiji adjusted his glasses, slipped the torn letter into his vest. "State what you are."

Laito's fingers twitched, but he was gone as quick as you could blink. You felt a tickle on your neck - the skin was healing were his fangs had been. You cocked your head, feeling the rush of blood going back to normal.

"Karlheinz is my creator; he sent me to you."

Laito held a hand to his mouth, and stepped into the dark and out of sight. Ayato pranced towards you. A confident smirk was on his face as he reached you. Pale hands closed in.

"Don't you remember? You cut things open in science to understand them." His hand pierced your chest - that - burning, twisting -- you couldn't breathe. Couldn't keep standing. His other hand came to hold you by the neck.

"And you're supposed to do it with a knife, Ayato."

Reiji said in the distance, because by now everything felt as if it were underwater and you -

you went blind.

\--

You wake to a foreign ceiling, a foreign bed, and foreign clothes. You must be alone. But as you rise to get out of the heavy blankets, you nudge something. The girl - Yui - is resting her head on the edge, body bent over from the chair. She breathes soundly. There's no need to wake her up, yet. As you gaze around, you see your cases sitting in a corner. There's nothing much to say about the room.

Except the color red. Everyone seems to love red.

You neared the window, dragging the thick set of curtains apart. Out, the trees swayed in the strong breeze. The sky was blue. A blue so deep it hurt to look at it. Behind you, the blankets rustled for a moment, and then the mattress violently squeaked. 

"A-ah!"

She was awake, half of her mind in Morpheus' dimension and half in reality. You gave her a nod, your name.

"Do you know Karlheinz?" You asked.

"K-Karlheinz --? No, I . . . " Pronouncing his name slightly askew, she shook her head. but hurried to your side. "I know this is sudden - coming from a stranger - but please."

Please. It was a long time since you'd heard that coming from somebody who was not . . .

"Please. Help me get out of here." She bowed - hair coming close to the ground. She lightly trembled. "It must have been a mistake - the wrong house. My father - he said a relative would be waiting for me but--!" Her hands went up to her neck. And then her face snapped to yours - fear, confusion, and something else. Your hand twitched.

"I can't." Her face fell. "I can't." You repeated.

"I don't want to die." Words for herself. "I . . . "

The door creaked open. There was only one, this time.

"Good. You are awake." Reiji stepped near to you. "As you know, vampires sleep during the day. I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible."

\---

As you went farther into the mansion, Yui followed like a shadow. Every time you turned a corner, you memorized each of the rooms, each of the halls. After a brief explanation - hierarchy, schedule, rules - you were allowed to walk in a specific area. Because you were a watcher, he'd said, while staring pointedly at Yui. You didn't care. But she needed food. And water.

And something to keep her mind off escaping.

"H-hey." Her timid voice cut the silence. "Your wound . . . Does it hurt?"

"It healed."

"Huh?!"

You paused in your tracks. Showing was better than telling. You quickly lifted off your shirt - and she gasped as she saw your back. You let it fall back. Of course, it hadn't been she who'd changed your attire. But did it matter? Finally, you reached the kitchen. Yui was now staying by the walls, a bit farther from you. Perhaps. Perhaps you had scared her.

"I will make breakfast."

As you scanned the inventory, the vague thought that grabbing food was prohibited crossed your mind. But it was fine. The blame would fall on you. After settling for a generic mix of whole grains and fruit, you gave her the dish. She immediately reached for it, but hesitated. 

"What . . . about you?"

"Later," you sat across her - folding your hands on your lap. And stared.

"Um--." She dug in. "Thank you."

As tears started to fall down her face, you busied yourself with staring outside. There was nothing to be done. 

\---

"You need to sleep." And I, too - you thought.

". . ." Yui's gaze was downcast. You'd made the way to her room - a place not too far off yours. But - even if she were to scream, you wouldn't be able to do anything. 'Protect Yui' - that must have been a joke. You didn't even protect yourself.

"I have to go," she said. "I must."

"They will kill you." 

It was quiet after that.

"A vampire is not a lesser being. And you are the 'bride'."

"That - that thing--." She looked up at the word bride. "I don't understand. And vampires? Vampires don't exist." She shut her eyes tight, hands curling into fists. "The belief in vampires stemmed from superstition and mistaken assumptions about postmortem decay. Folklore. Myths."

She was pushing away the reality. Desperately.

"But they were true." Explaining was never your forte. "Then again, limiting the races of the Demon world to vampires would be a misservice. As a society, there is a hierarchy. The superior races are made of vampires, the wolves, the Vibora and the Adler."

She gazed at you, unbelieving. "Vibora and Ad . . . ?"

"Snakes and eagles. There are inferior races, like ghouls, but I doubt you'll meet them. Vampires are very much like 'superhumans', from where you come. Beings with heightened reflexes, the ability to use magic, immortality."

You were tired of talking so much.

" . . . what is a 'bride'?"

Ah.

"The bride is the bride. The wife of a vampire." That was all there was to it, and then some more. But she didn't need to know about the killing just yet. She was human.

"Why me?" Her question lingered in your mind. Even after you excused yourself and retreated to your room, you wondered. You did that a lot. And it never brought you the answers you needed. As you watched a nest of birds, you dismissed the train of thought. There was no point in looking for logic in a world led by instincts.

Birds were just birds, and as you snapped the neck of one, you didn't dwell on their death too long. You were hungry.


	3. Eyes

**YOUR EYES** open like clockwork - 5:30 p.m. Having found the uniform hanging from a chair, you slipped into it. Aware somebody watched. Two arms trapped you against the wall, and the wooden wall rattled.

"I'd call you little bitch, but that one's already taken~." His fangs ripped the skin apart, boring into your neck. A hot tongue lapped the blood. Hands held you by the shoulders, pinning you in place. Unnecessary, because there was no point in trying to get away. "You know, there's something quite curious about your blood." He sighed, and then bit the shell of your ear.

"I guess I'll settle with petite whore--fancy, isn't it?"

You remained quiet, looked away from the red trail on his lips.

"If it weren't for yesterday I'd think you're mute. Or could it be you enjoy this . . . ?"

"I don't."

Your eyes trailed the mansion's outskirts. The sky.

". . . Look at me."

The room became an octave darker. The curtains had fallen apart, covering the window. You shifted your eyes towards his - churning, glinting green. It reminded you of Ayato as he pierced through your chest. It reminded you of --a woman and her screams. And it must've have shown on your face; his smile had returned. "You're a weird, weird thing."

Laito's lips tasted like salt and sugar. He was not gentle, and there was a bite to the kiss

"Hmm." He hummed, taking his hands and lips off you. "I suppose you're used to this. After all." His voice dropped, and his thumb smeared the blood across your chin. 

"You came from that place."

"You are wrong."

And he laughed. 

\---

Yui stared at your collar, flickering her eyes from your neck to your face.

"A-are you--?"

"Ketchup," you said, leaning against the wall. Your fingers closed around the handle of your bag. Tightly, tightly.

". . ." She didn't seem to believe you, but her nervous tic was gone. "I, see . . . I'm g-glad you ate something." She shrinked under your gaze. Her bow was askew. Automatically, your hand reached out. You gave it one final tug, and saw there was nothing else out of place. She blinked twice, round eyes staring. And then she ducked her head and apologized. Sets of footsteps approached. 

"--tasty?" A boy's voice - higher than the rest's - echoed.

"Nfufu, you just have to give her a try." Laito produced a closed eye smile, and the girl beside you jumped in her skin. "Hello, bitches."

Beside him, a boy holding a plush toy strolled towards you.

"Yours truly will have a bite first, Kanato." Ayato tugged the boy's - Kanato's - shirt back and slid to your side first.

"Ayato, have a shred of self-respect, and keep your affairs to your room."

“Not you again!”

Reiji - ignoring Ayato’s whines - glared at you both from the corner of his eye. "Behave."

Yui's hand reached her neck, and then dropped it to her side. There was a bite mark.

While Ayato and Laito were busy flanking her, Kanato kept his pace with you, round eyes with bags under bags. There was nothing to be reflected in them. As he tilted his head, he gave the toy a tighter squeeze, hands tightly laced around each other.

"Please let me bite you."

"I refuse."

". . . Hey, Teddy . . . Should we rip her apart as well?"

\---

You knew about schools. Here, the style between European and Japanese converged. Then there were kids. Stumbling by in groups, pairs, watching and whispering. A wide berth was made for the Sakamaki brothers, out of both cowardice and admiration. Blood pumped, rushed - the multitude of heartbeats was erratic. You distracted yourself by reading the schedule. A mess of symbols and numbers. You blinked.

Yui shifted by your shoulder to get a better look, squinting under yellow streetlights. "Ah . . . we have different . . ." Her voice trailed off, and her hands tightened on her slip. 

First hour was philosophy, with Reiji and . . . Shuu. Though you hadn't seen him - the eldest. Not Subaru, either - the youngest, and perhaps the most insignificant - according to Karlheinz. Somebody tugs on your sleeve, and predictably enough, it's her.

"Um--. I-if it's okay, can we . . . "

She trips with her own tongue, but you can't stay forever. Reiji is still, watching. 

"I have to go."

"Oh."

And strangely enough, it seems like you've done something wrong. But you don't linger. If you could, you'd take the place of Reiji's shadow, if only to avoid his unwavering glare. As you lean in your chair, you think. Just a bit. The teacher takes his place - the routine greeting passes and the class starts. 

At one point, he turns to you, wearing an amicable smile. He asks you something - common knowledge, easy enough - and you can hear Reiji's scoff, somewhere to your right. For a second, you wonder why Karlheinz put you in this class. But the thought dies, quickly.

You answer.

\---

A director's office is the same, everywhere. Books, letters, folders - and a tired chairman. He leans back. His hands grip the seat's arms - he coughs, and then starts.

"I'm afraid I can't make a change to the system, you see. What we can do, however, is give you supplementary--"

"I request a change to class 2-A." You've repeated this, over and over. And having tired of your petition, the teachers sent you to the school's head. Representative. Karlheinz always liked to have a hand in everything. But this was just a small thing. A small alteration. It didn't matter much, in the grand scheme of things. 

The man laughed, voice shaking. "Yes, well. I'd have to talk this with your legal guardian."

You shut your eyes. You hated doing things like this - things typical of demons, the succubi and their carnal needs, the vibora and their fancy for territory. But it couldn't be helped. You slowly opened your eyes, the room no longer a warm brown with blue details. He gave you this gift, after all.

The lines trembled, and you had to focus on the man - not on how everything looked a bit darker, or sharper. You could see how his veins ran up the neck, with a pulse that was endearingly constant. His skin sagged, not too healthy, but it was proper for someone as old as he. Crow feet littered his eyes - their color a light blue. You stared. 

"You will transfer me to class 2-A." You felt a light sweat break on your forehead. "As quietly as you can, no matter what, you will transfer me to class 2-A."

"I . . . "

Your feet felt cold, and the room was losing light. Or you were losing sight of everything else. No matter.

"I will." He sounds empty. And, in a way, he is empty. This is not him speaking. He calls in people, secretaries, teachers - not many - and signs papers and permissions. You don't break the gaze for a long time, until a splitting sensation burns across your head. Over and over again. Eventually, he has nothing else to do. That's your cue.

When the colors and light come back, it hurts. You have to cover your face with your hands and lean against a wall. The bile never goes down your throat. The bitterness stays. Your breathing is a little ragged, but it will go back to normal. You trip down a staircase, almost hitting yourself on the way down. But somehow--somehow you stumble by the nurse's room. It's empty, save for one boy.

He has hair as white as snow, and like his eyes, his hand is dripping red. Skin slowly builds over ripped, shredded pieces, and before you can keep staring, a snarl comes from his lips.

"The fuck are you looking at?"

"Your--"

You throw up on the floor. Feathers and blood. Strange. You remember you were saying something.

"Your knuckles."

It's not a surprise when you look back at him, and see a mix of horror and disgust on his face. And you guess you feel a little like him, too. And a bit ashamed of having those for breakfast. You hear a low mumble--'fuck this shit'--before he disappears from sight. For a first meeting, it's better than Ayato's.

Speaking of which, Reiji didn't ask much about you. Nobody did. Perhaps they wrote a letter back to their father. You finish cleaning the floor with a spare mop, and leave it back in the bathroom. You wash your face with cold water and find you feel better. There is only a dull throb in your head. Right. Class 2-A.

You slam the door open on your way in - making everyone's heads snap in your direction. Your hand has a paper with an official sign and the head's stamp, and you promptly hand it to the teacher. It's a tense silence, but she shakes her head with a sigh and allows you to introduce yourself.

"[Last Name] [Name]. I'm not interested in any of you, so I ask of you to leave me alone." You raise from your bow. "And I am sitting next to Komori Yui." This is directed to the woman.

"Excuse me? Who do you think--."

"I am sitting next to Komori Yui."

"Of course. Hanako! Give your seat to [Name], yes?"

And that's how you managed to steal a place next to the sacrificial bride - ignoring the stares of Laito and Ayato. Of everyone. After all, the letter ordered to protect Yui Komori. A paper lands on your desk - Yui is looking at you, intently. You find it strange that she is no longer afraid.

'can we have lunch together?'

You nod.

That's the first time she smiles at you.

And troubling enough, you don't know how to feel about that.


	4. Violin Prodigy

**THE RUMORS** spread. A wildfire of mistaken observations, and just one truth.

You speed-walked down corridors, brushing past students, Yui in tow. Her scent was too honeyed - like a broken bottle of sickeningly sweet perfume. You had to cover her tracks with the smothering stench of the school body. The cafeteria would have to do.

As you bumped into a boy, your hand slipped into his backpockets. Aha. There it was.

"--?!"

"Nice rear. Sorry."

"[Name]?!" Yui wheezed your name.

You left the shell-shocked kid behind and snuck into the line's front. Before anyone could start complaining, you sacrificed a bit of your comfort to make them believe a lie. They did, of course, nod dazedly. You pressed your face against the cool glass. Good enough.

"Yui, choose."

"Huh? What about you?"

After she hesitantly settled on the lunch, you paid with the boy's stolen wallet. Yui promptly scrambled for an empty table, actually selecting a hidden enough space. You hadn't seen the brothers, but it was a matter of time. Somebody was running through the upper floor, after all.

"--ou?"

You snapped out of your daze, and saw she was holding a fork, level to your face.

"Aren't you hungry? You look pale . . ."

"I already ate. You should hurry up and finish."

" . . . " 

After a brief lull, her voice broke over the cacophony of the dining hall.

"What are you?" Yui was more direct than you'd expected. But apologetic as ever. "I - I mean . . . "

"A vampire." It wasn't true, but one question would turn into twenty.

She stiffened in her chair, "But Reiji-san said . . . " 

You dropped the topic entirely, finding the hasty steps above were missing. Unsettling. And then something was rushing in your direction at an alarming speed. A fist slammed on the table, breaking the wood with a crack. Your drinks poured over the edge, and tangled on Yui's hair was a hand.

"Of course you were with this thing--trying to get in the way now?" Ayato was growling at you. The tilt on his lips grew into a smirk. "Yours Truly will get rid of you, later. Come on, pancake. You don't want to hurt more, right?"

The whole area had gone quiet. Oh.

"I see." You twirled the fork in your hands. "So you don't mind being the last one to bite me."

And as if having broken down a dam, whispers started growing around. 

"I don't need your blood," his voice was low, only for you and Yui. "Flat breasts can do the job well enough." The sudden switch of names was a flag, along with the fangs in his smile.

"Of course. Why would you? Laito-san must have weird tastes." A loud giggle came from somewhere behind a pillar. So he'd been watching . . . Your last comment must have made something in Ayato snap. His fingers clamped on your wrist, pulling you out of the chair and the room. The nails dug onto your skin.

"If you're so desperate for Yours Truly, I guess I can play with you for a bit." He said with a sneer. "Don't complain later."

But this wasn't what you'd wanted. Yui had stayed behind, with Laito.

\---

Paganini's Caprice no. 5 ricocheted off the walls. Niccolo had been coined The Devil's Pianist - a title that had been pushed fittingly onto Shu. He hadn't minded. Not when he had a whole hall for himself and the quiet to practice. Then again . . . Shu brought the bow to a halt, and sighed.

"You bring into reality the hideous notion that there can be music which stinks to the ear." Reiji said, looking around the room for something, a curl to his lips. "I will leave you to the only leisurely pursuit you own, cumber-ground."

"If you're going to complain like a lowlife, just go to the old man." Shu put down the violin - a thing made of ebony, rosewood, and bismuth. Supposed to last eons upon eons.

"Oh please. Getting mad over a piece of assessment is unlike you." Reiji scoffed, one foot out, and one foot frozen in place.

"And I guess it is like you to get mad over a piece of food." Shu turned his music all the way up - the sound of an orchestra washing out Reiji's words. Shu closed his eyes and mumbled a vague 'have fun finding them'.

Ayato never used the music room, but there was a first time for everything. It must've been something to do with her, according to the broken pieces of conversation from the redhead. At least they were quiet - hair covering their faces, resting in a corner, their collar heavily undone. Have fun finding them, Reiji. 

\---

Laito stabbed a cherry tomato, gently biting into it. The not-quite-human girl had asked him something. Her blood brought about nostalgia, but it wasn't why he stayed around. She was naive. Unspoiled. The thought of her broken made him smile - a smile which she tentatively returned. He caressed the curve of her cheek, skin like porcelain. 

"Tell me, little bitch. Does it feel good to be protected?"

Fear, to a vampire, was a treat. And the girl was always so frightened - . . . It made him want to try harder. He traced her neck, leaving pink trails along. He could feel her pulse under the frail skin. All women were the same. The girl's pupils dilated, and he could see how her Adam's apple bobbed. Endearing.

And then something strange happened. Those eyes that were vibrant pink shifted. Green. Out of reflex, his hand withdrew. Then, everything was back to normal. A play of light--? Laito watched the girl blink repeatedly, her hand darting to her chest. She fisted the fabric, staying quite still. 

"Bitch-chan?"

Of course it was no illusion - no play of light. The blood that ran through her veins was not a human's. He could still remember the tastes - the usual filth that came to this school, and the passable but sub-par one that vampire's had. But the little bitch and whore's were in different categories themselves. Still, he'd prefer to take a bite out of the priest's daughter.

She was so saccharine it was almost unbelievable.

"Well, I see you're back to normal." Laito leaned over the table. "But I wanted to talk about [Name]. Don't you feel a bit curious about her . . ? Nfufu~ I knew it~."

"I thought you didn't know her," she mumbled to herself.

"Oh, I did my own little 'investigation'." He tugged the meat out its tray, ignoring her frown, and dragged the knife along it. "Have you ever heard of chimeras, hm? An amalgamation of genetically different tissues, formed by grafting or mutation."

He rearranged the unevenly cut pieces.

"In our world, such a thing is a monster - and their main diet, is, of course--."

He grinned at her.

"Humans."

A childish lie, but she believed it. He hid his laugh - really - and left her to her own musings. Laito didn't know a single thing about the watcher, a gift his father had sent, but he was so bored. Could anyone blame him? The bell that signaled lunch was over had rung. But he had to wonder - just where had Ayato taken that toy?

\---

The solo concert had ended, and kindly enough, your whereabouts hadn't been snitched to Reiji.

You remembered how he'd turned red, no doubt out of shame and rage, and the words he'd mouthed to you. You guess you'd earned it after answering ten times wrong. 

The bell faintly rang for next period. As you dragged yourself along the wall, the boy - Shu - was ignorant of you. Music seeped out of his headphones. Some classic title. Judging from the earlier talk, his relationship with Reiji was rotten. When his eyes opened, you felt something was terribly off. You couldn't pinpoint it. But your unnerve was mirrored in his face, and as he sat up, his headphones softly fell to hang from his neck.

"Do I know you?" The words rolled out your mouth, smoothly.

And as quickly as he got up, the expression melted into one of indolence and boredom. "A sore sight should go back wherever it came from." A snap was what you expected, so you promptly left. You didn't realize you were holding your breath until you were out. As you looked out the window, you saw how disheveled you were. Fixing your collar, your fingertips grazed the spot Ayato had bitten over and over.

Completely healed.


	5. Floriography

**THE FIRST THING** you notice is the rope on your wrists, chafing the skin. Your arms are bound to a cross. And your mind - you feel as if it's wrapped in cotton, fuzzy. Unlike yourself. And then you hear whistling through the air. A whip cracks behind you, leaving a streak of fire across your back. It's enough to wake you up.

You are in a wide room, stone-made, with chains and cuffs linked to the walls. A candelabra is set by, dripping wax, the sticks half melted. A second cut draws, followed by a third. It stings. When you shift your head, everything stops.

"You are quite resistant to pain, aren't you?" Reiji's voice broke from the dark. "But I have to wonder--"

It didn't feel like a slash, no. Something clawed in crisscross, tearing apart your skin. Blood dripped onto the floor.

"--what your breaking point is."

You tried to recall what brought you here, but drew a blank. Once again, the air snapped. . . . Time passed. You weren't sure if it had been a few hours or more, but daylight broke. His throws were slower. Heavier. After each lashing, the skin fused together.

"What is it with you? I'd think someone as dull would ask me to stop by now."

"I will wait until the punishment is deemed done with--" Another whipping. So the question was rhetorical, "--and that's not for me to decide." A defeaning silence answered. But you were tired - what time was it? Shoes tapped against the floor, stopping right behind you. His fangs were sank onto your neck, hand wrapping itself around your throat. Cold. Your vision slowly tilted, black dots covering everything.

"This is your punishment, for----." You didn't catch those last words.

When you came to, it was not out of your own volition. A piece of cloth was over you, and somebody - somebody was undoing the ropes. This was not Reiji, whose scent was that of coffee and cinnamon. This was not Reiji, who'd have never thought of carrying you out - a hold so light you had to reassure yourself you were not floating. Or maybe you were. 

You felt warm grass beneath you. It smelt like strawberries, summer fruit, and spice. As you dared to open your eyes, you were welcomed by dancing lilacs and freesias. There was no one. You held onto the fabric - a shirt - a little tighter. The sky was azure. It felt like a dream and--.

You blink. The walls contort around you, the pole and the chains chink together . . . You test the ropes on your wrists. They bite your skin. It was a dream. You feel like laughing. But your throat aches and you can't feel your legs. Of course it was a dream. The blue was too bright.

You vaguely notice it's raining, outside.

\---

You got rid of the ropes after a while, ignoring the whip innocently laying by. Blood had caked a part of it.

You dragged yourself through a set of stairs, ignoring how your legs shook, or how your lips tasted of iron. And finally, you surfaced. The corridor's walls were smashed. The plaster was beyond help, wood and concrete pieces laying around. A window was broken, letting the downpour in. Nearby, spots of red had darkened, hardened. A trail. And at the end of it . . . 

Had you failed? Like the first day, Yui lay on the floor. This time, you couldn't hear her heartbeat from a distance. You lowered yourself beside her, cradled her head, her wrist. Looked for a pulse. And heard it, very faintly. The 'why' of her state didn't matter. She was a bride. 

Her room was a replica of yours, except for some books, notes, and the picture of a man of God. He stood behind an ambo, holding a chalice high in the air. You knew this man. Komori, Seiji. A religious zealot, a vampire hunter - infamous for his kill count. And now a father without his daughter.  But the church often made deals with demons, and he must've known. He must have.

From her bathroom, you dragged out a kit. You bit open the cotton bag, doused her wounds in alcohol, and finished wrapping her in bandages. Rips had littered her collarbone, trailing to her shoulder. Uneven. Would scar if she didn't take care. You finished tucking her under the blankets. And then her hand darted around yours. You were confused by her grip, too strong for such a small frame - ah. Green eyes held your stare.

"I don't want to die. Stay." And as an afterthought, she said please. The clamp didn't waver, and if anything, it strengthened.

"What are you afraid of?" Her wounds were not life-threatening, at least, not anymore. So why was she shaking?

" . . . "

Her body went limp. And then she startled with a gasp. Sherbet eyes, once more. You quietly sighed, feeling something akin to relief. Yui clawed at her chest, stilling only when you stopped her.

"There was someone." She mumbled. "It was not me."

"I know." Not really, but that phrase calmed her a little.

"Why does everything hurt, [Name]? I - I don't remember. We came back from school and . . ."

"Rest." You threw the blankets over her. You didn't want to make the situation worse with lies, or honesty. 

"Wait, please tell me--!"

"Heal, first." You just wanted her to sleep.

"Don't vampires have healing abilities?"

You felt your eyes narrow. "Do you want me to lick you?"

Yui froze, contemplating the answer. "N-no . . ."

\---

The library took a while to look for. Its doors were wrapped in locks - but they were ridiculous. With one touch, they showered to the ground, old and useless. The air was heavy, filled with dust. Bookcases lined the walls. Some tomes owned magic residues, some were on the verge of falling apart. You picked up some from the floor - grave thieves ii, Species Plantarum, divide et impera - and one in particular caught your eye. 

It was the newest, in a room of yellowed paper. Lilies were engraved on its cover, and attached to it, an empty loop where a pen should go. Taken well care of. You started flipping through it. On every other page was a photo. Cut-outs. Ideas for baby names, steps on how-to lunchboxes, tips for raising a child. Any empty space was filled with notes.

My child would like this.

Yui learned this the other day.

The handwriting was squared, clean. It had a stern, factual voice. But if they hadn't cared, they wouldn't have spent hours on filling each page. Except for an abrupt stop, from where it was empty. It was not what you were looking for, per se, but any information on that man would help. If only because he was a threat. You closed it. The door had creaked.

"So you were here . . . " A carving knife was in his hand.

"Kanato-san."

"Hey, do you know where that girl is? I'm hungry." He faked ignorance. In a second, his breath fanned your cheek. "Although . . . Won't you let me have a taste, [Name]-san?"

You thought of the bloody tissues, the ripped uniform, a body too tiny that had been pierced over and over again; your silence was your answer. 

"Hehe . . . I like it when you are quiet." He bit. Again and again. "You are not as good as she is, but . . . you are like a doll."

He brought the blade up, tested it against your shoulder.

"I'd turn you into a real one." He sighed, plunging the metal back. "If it weren't because you heal so fast. It's annoying."

His tone had grown deeper, bothered. It wasn't him just trying the knife out, now - it turned into a challenge to see how fast he could stab you. He was gritting his teeth, an almost obsessed glint in his eyes. He kept at it, carving holes into your chest. You leaned against the bookcase, too exhausted to keep yourself upright. Changing clothes had become a waste. You felt your eyes flutter closed, and instantly felt a sharp slap.

"Look at me!" His cry reverberated across the room. And then he paused, huffing. "Or I'll take your eyes."

The knife swayed dangerously by. You did your best to keep an unwavering gaze, and his pout lessened. Not your eyes. You hated when the vitreous had to grow again.

"Good. I won't have to maim you if you stay like that." Metal clattered against ceramic tiles. He pushed you down, popping your shirt's buttons with his hold. "I'll drink until I'm sated, so don't move."

It was like playing statue. Only you had to fight the darkness, crawling around the edges of your sight. He'd think you were ignoring him, otherwise.

"It really is a waste . . . you'd be such a nice addition . . . "

You focused on the diary, the cover that dug on your back. A father that loved his daughter, but not enough. Demon hunters. It took silver and beheading to get rid of vampires and werewolves and snakes. Eagles didn't matter because they never hurt you. Everything else could be destroyed by sheer force. Karlheinz's voice echoed. Why were you thinking of this, again? Before your thoughts could derail any further, you focused on the boy.

Kanato's teeth were bloody, and he held a smile, like a proud little child. And you wondered what it'd take to wipe off that stupid grin. The thought came and went. The only stupid thing here was you. Karlheinz's mercy was death. And you didn't want to think of his worst punishments. You didn't bother listening to Kanato, for once. Didn't have to make the effort, either. The library's panes shattered, showering you both in shards of glass. A murder of crows broke in. Kanato screamed, instantly off you - getting pierced by sharp beaks all over. It was a writhing mass of black feathers.

One of them landed on your knee, a slip of paper on its mouth. It didn't do anything other than waiting.

You took it, and turned it over. It was in German.

“Why is a crow like a writing desk?”

By the time you'd finished reading, Kanato had been left alone, bleeding out. One of his eyes had been gouged out, and he was wailing, cursing.

"WHAT THE FUCK."

Not surprisingly, you cared more for who had sent the page. Ghouls were supposed to be slaves, not . . . this.

"DO SOMETHING! DAMMIT, MY EYE - MY EYE!"

You quickly knocked him out cold, stopping the bleeding with a handkerchief. The only one who'd have any vague leads would have to be Reiji. 

Joy.


	6. Hastening

**WHAT** is the meaning of this?

Reiji echoed your own question. And while you told him Kanato was assaulted, and that you couldn't treat him - he lifted the boy. He barked at you to stay, useless thing, and spoke to Ayato and Subaru (when had they appeared?) while the situation set. It was akin to realizing only when hypothermia had taken over that you'd sank in cold water. You were spared. And that never meant a good outcome. Kanato? He would be fine, vampires didn't die from a few pecks or gouged organs. 

You froze. You were worrying for yourself and only yourself. Again.

"Oi, watcher! Don't you have something to do with this mess? Ugh, that old man has nothing but free time."

"Ayato, mind yourself." Reiji snapped, having disappeared between shelves and into the other side of the room. "Get a familiar to track them."

Before you could properly stand, Subaru lifted you by the shirt's collar, crushing the glass beneath. "You're so suspicious it makes me sick. If you're hiding anything, out with it." It was your second meeting with Subaru, and it was going just as well as you imagined. You knew bruises would be left.

"Snow-white, back off. That's Yours Truly's emergency rations."

You zoned out their voices, Subaru's hands occupying themselves with something else. That man . . . You forgot how callous he could be. Your hand spasmed - and you remembered the paper. It felt like a hindrance.  You were already suspicious because of your short arrival, and the riddle would only seem like a code.

"--ah? Then let me tell you that your damn spiritual animal is a fucking goldfish, you entitled piece of shit--"

You didn't want to know how the conversation had gone there, or at what millisecond they'd moved onto a mutual choke hold.

"Go fuck yourself, bastard. Yours Truly could say the same thing about your mo--"

"Be quiet." Reiji finally pried them off each other. "Or leave if it's beyond you."

"Whatever," Subaru said, and his presence was gone. 

"Don't touch Yours Truly, four-eyes. This is a waste of time if nobody says what the hell's going on." He glared at you.

"Goodness, I was getting to that point . . . Well then? Speak. It's true we have been waiting." Reiji grabbed a vial from his coat, checking the liquid against the light. "It's in your best interest not to lie."

And so, you did as ordered.

. . .

Their faces fell into a sort of contemplation at your words. Or at least, Reiji did. Ayato looked like he had a hard time processing the events, confused.

"A flock of crows . . . ? I am starting to believe you are either delusional or terrible at lying." Despite saying that, Reiji stared at the broken shards and clumps of feathers. "Ghouls are at par with humans. Never has there been a revolt."

Ayato frowned even more at those words. "What do ghouls have to do with anything?"

"Perhaps I should bring a snail over . . ."

"--? Tableware otaku, have you been drinking something weird again?"

". . . to show you the slowness of your thinking process."

"Oi!"

"They can shift into crows, Ayato. However, due to their lack of magic and significant traits, they are nothing but slaves. Do you have any remembrance of your maids? Some of them were ghouls."

"Hmph. It's not my fault they were so boring and few."

"It's not that they were few--." Reiji paused, pursing his lips. "We can leave the common knowledge lesson for later. I'm not in the mood to lecture you about Rotigenbelk. Rather, I think I need to do some traveling. If luck will have it this mansion will stay in one piece by the time I return."

"Stop talking like you are our damn babysitter. If you're taking vacations, it's only fair that we do too. And I want to meet the imbeciles who thought doing this was a good idea."

Reiji sighed. "I expected as much, coming from you. However--."

\---

The acolytes poured in, taking off their cassocks. They cleaned the holy instruments, and they stored the wafers, and some stared. Seiji Komori did not care. His voice murdered the silence, ordered them to go home early and pray. He had stopped wishing them good evenings.

There could be no other reason than his daughter, the acolytes thought.

They knew, or rather, like everyone else, didn't know, what had become of her. It had been only a few days. Yet, it was unsettling to not see the child with a smile of honey and her fitting voice. But nobody asked a thing.

And so, Seiji Komori remained, locking himself in the convent with the friars and the dead of the quiet. A few lamps were set on the hallways, illuminating the archive storage and the communal room, dahlias and roses lining the sills. He didn't go to sleep, and instead, went down a staircase. Twisting, winding, and never-ending.

At the bottom was a statue of the Son of God. An altar. There were candles and angels' figurines and sculptures of imperative saints. The flames writhed, casting uneven shadows and bouts of light.

He screamed.

He screamed and nobody heard.

He beat his fists on the stone grounds, and clawed at his arms, and then wept. The cross on his chest felt so heavy.

Why? Why her? No. This was his fault - this was the agreement. He couldn't blame anyone; the one who sent her to that slaughterhouse had been him. Oh, God. The Devil had offered its hand, extended a deal - a threat - and he took it. He--.

Seiji went mute. One life for the lives of hundreds. One life for the families, for the acolytes, for the nuns and the friars and all the people in town where ignorance reigned. He bitterly tasted iron and salt, the dust from the ground, the bile threatening to spew. And then he calmed. And when he returned to his room, a dozen Lord's Prayers later, he took apart the floorboards. He opened a heavy suitcase and weighted the cool metal. Boxes of silver bullets, too, laid beneath the wood (not enough, not quite).

He was an instrument, a tool of God, a man of the church.

He had to extinguish the crippling regret that was devouring him from inside.

He had to purge all evil.

\---

You did not go to school. Nobody did. Reiji was gone and so was any sense of law. You sank further into the tub, ignoring the chills the cold water gave you. It was freezing. Numbing. The distant sound of a piano was muffled. Rachmaninoff . . . ? The piece reminded you of humid evenings back home. Back home. You slid farther down, ignoring how the water sloshed on the edges.

You coughed, inhaling soap water and choking. You immediately sat up. The force that had slammed on your stomach stared at you with pale blue eyes, you realized. Fully clothed, carrying that indolent gaze.

". . . ugh . . . this is ice."

"The door is over there."

He finally took his time to stare. An indescribable look passed through his face, and you weren't sure what to do when his hands slipped by your collarbone. He held your neck, a pressure that was not gentle, but unlike Subaru's - and thumbed your pulse. You couldn't lift your legs from beneath him. A kick was out of the question.

"Shouldn't you be embarrassed?" He prompted.

"I suppose I am." The easiest way to kill was by snapping necks, so you hoped your answer wouldn't get nitpicked. He'd asked, hadn't he? And when he leaned his head against your shoulder, you expected a prick. There were only even breaths, warm air against your cool skin - and then two fangs grazed you.

"Maybe this turns you on."

You felt two arms encase you, wrapping themselves around you back. Hair brushed your cheeks, and you noticed the ceiling, spots of black amidst the white paint. Or was that your sight? On the water, a trail of scarlet made its way, dissolving. He took a long time, drinking.

You closed your eyes, for a while.

When you opened them again it was because hands gripped your arms, lifted you out from the tub, and shook you.

"[Name]!" Yui gasped. "How long have you--?"

You coughed out water, gulping air, air, air--. Really, how long had you been lying there? She helped you out, wrapping you in a towel and leading you to your bed. You sat on the thick quilt. After looking through a few of your drawers, she dug out some of your clothes. Your arms, clumsy and stiff, took a bit longer than usual to do anything. Yui asked you for the third time if you were okay.

"I-I-I'm f-f-ine." You clamped your mouth shut, slightly annoyed at how much your teeth chattered. 

A moment later, the towel was ferociously used to dry your hair, but pressing lightly on your cheeks, face - she was worrying over every single little thing. And you felt like a child. Warmth eventually returned to you, thanks to all the shirts and sweaters and socks. You curled under the blankets, a desperate want to doze off having entered your mind. Everything was so fuzzy.

A weight sank beside you, no doubt Yui. She always smelt sweet.

"I miss dad. I miss everything. I don't know how you do it - or why you're here - but . . . I wish I was as strong as you are." Talking to herself. She never spoke with such a light tone around you. "You know, when Ayato took you away? Laito teased me . . . said you were a chimera. But, I don't believe him. I'm not that stupid . . ."

She trailed off, nonetheless. And a part of you felt compelled to say something, and keep the small talk going.

"Well then. Did you see any grafts on my body . . ?" Your tongue felt heavy, but you spoke a bit.

"W-what? I - I thought you were sleeping and - no! Of course not, I wasn't looking!" A pause. "Do chimeras really exist, though?"

". . . Some. Usually familiars . . ."

"And are they like the ones in the books? Head of a lion, body of a goat, tail of a serpent?"

You yawned.

"A chimera is a thing that is hoped or wished for, but illusory or impossible to achieve." You recited the definition, on the verge of falling asleep. "They are failures . . . that's all . . ."

Darkness dragged you in, drowning the sound and sight of everything else. You welcomed it.


	7. INTERLUDE I

**RED ROSES** emerged from murder. Or love. Both were interchangeable. The flower was raised in your mother's palms, hands that didn't know how to take care of themselves. She laughed at your face, maybe one that was too childishly frightened of all things related to death. But she should've blamed those books, and not you.

'Oh, my darling. Don't ever stop being so adorably caring!' She wrote with her free hand on a yellowed notebook. Gentle curls to her letters. The giggles died as you struggled to stick each bandaid (things you kept in your pocket just for her). Her hand dropped the pen, and stroked your cheek, a light touch. It was everything to you.

'You are my rose,' she mouthed.

You hated those flowers, but she changed their meaning to something beautiful, so you kept the false smile.

The sun was setting, turning the cobblestone and tower walls golden. Gently, your mother took your hand, and lead you where you hated it the most. 

"Can't we stay for a little longer?" Your question was almost a hush. The wind curled about your feet, dragging dead leaves and your voice with it. She smiled. And tears rolled down her cheeks, like they did everyday. She flipped the notebook to an old page, one that she used to answer things she could not allow nor grant.

'My darling, please be good!'

And you would try better. You would kiss her cheek, receive a hug that was a hundred times stronger than anything you could ever give, and take one last look from the stairs. Because the woman with no legs and no tongue was to return to somewhere. You did not know where.

Your world was comprised of the garden, the tower, and your raison d'être. You watched her turn the wheelchair and disappear - for the very last time. And the man arrived the next day, beautiful and proud. He reeked of death. It made something akin to animosity bloom in your chest. Fear, too. But fear was familiar. You froze in the kitchen, watching his tall figure that stood by the doorway.

"I am your father, little one. I came to take you away."

God. He was so utterly creepy you weren't sure what to say.

"You are kidnapping me."

"Oh, dear. Nothing of the sort. Did your mother not tell you about me?"

"I . . ." You racked through your mind, and came with nothing. There was a sense of impending doom to this man - and where were the knives when you needed them? You were supposed to protect yourself in this kind of situation. As you darted to the knife holder, two arms encased you. The hairs on your neck stood. You tried kicking his feet and crotch, but bloody hell. The effort itself was ridiculous.

"Let's not get reckless, now. Good children obey. Don't you want to see your mother?"

The path to the carriage was short - the sight was of a man that dragged a child across the dirt, and said child that dug themselves to the ground with fingers and heels. There was nothing good about him! You voiced your thoughts as he set you on a seat - the softest thing you'd ever touched - and he raised an eyebrow.

"Have you thought, perhaps, that she raised you a bit wrong?"

"Don't speak of her that way."

He crossed his legs as he sat, a lenient but aloof glint in his eyes.

"I am your father, [Name]."

"No. I don't even know your name."

Oh, goodness. He thought. It really needed some education - but it could be fixed. It was just a child.

"How about sweets in the meantime?" He received a perturbed glare from you. Well. 

\--

Two times you tried to throw yourself out the vehicle. The third attempt, a hand slammed you against the cherry wood, and two fingers flicked and bound your feet and wrists. Magic. This was magic. There was no rope, only an insistent, invisible force that hurt to the bones. His mood then went from scalding and frightening to cool and flippant. You glared at him from the car's rugged floor.

"I could kill you," he softly said. "I could kill your sweet mother, let you have her casket."

Ice. It felt as if ice was encasing you, from both outside and inside. Your heart missed a beat.

"But I love you both, so stay by my side, because that is all I am asking of you."

The binds constricted around you. Now one was on your throat. Choking.

"Can you answer with a heartfelt yes, dear? Or do we have to do this the hard, undignified way?"

And there was something else revolting around your chest, twisting and burning. Blood rushed to your face. You felt something break, and, Karlheinz too. Both of you were quiet as the magic melted, dead, into the air. 

"Okay."

You sat against the soft leather, sticking far away from him.

"Okay. But don't hurt my mother."

"Of course." He smiled. "It's a promise."

Promises, you came to find, meant to Karlheinz as much as a stubborn child did. Annoying, but easy to manipulate and ultimately, break.


	8. Crybaby's Menagerie

**ANEW.** The sun set, and you half dazedly threw open the windows. Someone had burnt incense in your room, and you couldn't stand the smothering stench of vanilla. A gust blew from the horizon, ruffling the foliage and endless greenery outside. It felt foreboding.

Rain, you guessed. The fresh air was intoxicating. 

It carried Yui's scent, too. Like a flare going off in a burst of colors. You dropped from the ledge, and rolled across the soft grass. The trail came from a dilapidated wing of the mansion - you didn't hesitate pushing apart the heavy doors. Inside, it was . . . Empty. The white curtains danced in the breeze, taking an eternity to float down. You traversed the abandoned room.

There were no windows in the next area. A green hue befell the walls, a murky, moldy color. A few candles were lit, illuminating what seemed like flesh. Brides, by the dozen. Their makeup was lightly done, dressed embedded by jewels and frills and lace. Your hand automatically reached for one of their arms. It felt - plastic? Before you knew it, the skin fissured and - you heard it crack against the ground. You felt goosebumps, and a quite-not shiver racing down your spine.

At least there was no smell.

You wiped your hands on the hem of your shirt and kept going. It was the quiet that was getting to you. The kind where flies buzzing around would certainly fit the atmosphere. A familiar laugh bounced, echoed. Kanato was doing something DECIDEDLY not good. You peered in through the half open, iron door. Yui was on a table. Knocked out. 

You let your footsteps fall heavily, stepping in.

"You finally decided to join us." Teddy was gripped tightly in his arms, an even more taut smile pulled on his lips. It was terribly forced. You raised your hand to his eye - the one that had been gouged out - but a sharp slap forced it away. "Don't touch me!"

You could see his shoulders, pushed together. The exhale to his voice. And eyes that glared, tears pulling at the corners. But he didn't cry. He grit his teeth, instead.

"I wonder how happy you were after - after that happened! You didn't even care--." He immediately composed himself, the smile slowly returning to his face. "Reiji is gone, so I guess he won't mind if there are some additions to the collection."

"I wasn't glad, Kanato-san."

"I'll rip your tongue first, so don't worry about screaming. You will choke on it."

"And you'll kill Yui too?"

"I'll make her the prettiest bride - more so than you."

Kanato's weakness was in not realizing how far you went with orders.

Perhaps nobody did know that.

He was taking slow, measured steps towards you, and you joined him in his game. The wall was far behind.

"But then, you'll never get blood as sweet as hers."

"What do you know? Aren't you getting a bit entitled? She's nothing but a bloodbag!" He raised his voice to a yell, but you knew he was thinking things over, because silence fell. "Maybe I should get rid of just you. You've stopped being good."

"Good?"

It was a blur of silver and green as you were kicked into a wall. Your head rattled for a bit, a shock from the hit. You felt him sitting atop -? He was straddling you, the cyclops bear forgotten on cold tiles. 

"I'm not interested in wasting time by talking to you -" lies "-so I'll make it simple, you stupid thing!"

He bit your shoulder, the familiar sting becoming something almost mundane and borderline annoying. And then you noticed several things, for example, an alarming lack of any other brothers. Shaky hands that held tight onto your waist. A feeling of restlessness and not exhaustion. Maybe you'd come to regret your actions, but that was fine. You regretted many things.

A sharp gasp escaped his lips when you bit him back - maybe because you were far rougher. Hunger was overpowering. It was the scraping of acid in your stomach, done over and over again, without end in sight. And you were tired of it, almost to the brink of madness.

Was this madness? You'd hidden it so well the few past days.

"Stop! What are you--?!" He tried to shove you back, but you weren't letting go. "You idiot!"

You gripped him in an unshakable hold, making sure to not dig your nails too much. The most obvious problem was his shirt, particularly the stupidly white collar. It was tinted red. You could feel his fingers digging onto your flesh, on the other hand. Probably sunk in frenzied confusion about why he couldn't teleport, the easiest way out of whatever this was. 

It quickly became a flipped, distorted reality, with you on top and he against the floor. He opened his mouth - possibly a scream, or an insult - but you sealed it with yours. He was sweet, on a more literal sense than you'd thought, and he fought. If muffled cries and fruitless jabs counted.

"Kanato. Stop."

"Get off me! Get off-!"

You kissed him again. And again. Until he didn't have any intervals to speak.

"I'll serve you."

"What are you - ?!"

"Don't you want love? Attention?"

" - . . ."

"I'll give you everything."

And then he melted. He didn't really go against you, his legs pulled over your hips, pressing a bit too close for comfort. But right now those things didn't matter. You trailed warm lips across his chest and farther below - by then he bucked his hips, a sound bordering on a growl or a whimper flying past his lips. You stopped at his waist, soft and easy to pierce.

"A-ah!"

The amount of blood you'd drank was dizzying.

But Kanato was easy, too. Didn't really question your actions - perhaps because he didn't want to. Didn't shy away from your touch either - and when he was a mess of undone buttons and flushed face, you decided it was more than enough. You didn't want to keep going any longer.

"Forget." You kissed his jaw. "Forget all of this."

"For . . . get?"

"Even the crows. Even the pain. You can be good, right? I'll reward you even more."

" . . . "

"I love you." 

You were surprised at how disgustingly low you could fall.

"Kanato."

But fooling a kid was not the worst you'd done.

"Forget all about this."

" . . . okay . . . "  And Kanato, with his disarrayed thoughts and wants, weak to cravings and easy to please, gave in to your words. His mind collapsed. You fixed your clothes, wiping the drool from the spot he'd tried to claim before. If this was what it took to stop him from killing Yui, then he was not really a threat. Though you'd have to do something with his shirt, fast. Nobody needed to be doing any guessing.

And as for the bride . . . You glanced at her body, haphazardly placed on a metal bed. You'd get her back to her room. You just need a minute to deal with the hammering migraine - a side effect of overexertion. Humans were one thing. Vampires were another.

But as long as they were mentally vulnerable then . . . You shook the thought off. There were things to be done.

\--- memory 01 ---

_Kanato's sight is hazy and everything turns, over and over. He doesn't know where north or south is anymore - and the maids all say he's an oven. Vampires don't really get sick, do they? They shouldn't. It was just a little play beneath the rain. But now everything hurts and he can't even swallow. He keeps himself still in fear someone will get angry at him for getting up again, maybe the thirtieth time. He isn't sure._

_He just misses his mom._

_If she were beside him, he wouldn't mind coughing blood. But his dad took her away somewhere he can't go. Somewhere better, she said. Was he that bad of a child? He shouldn't have listened to Laito, even though he really wanted to be with his brothers. It was stupid of all of them._

_"Mo - ther . . ." He tries his heavy tongue, but of course, there's no one to answer. His mom isn't supposed to come back until later, and he didn't get a chance to ask for a clock. A sob leaves him, and then a second one, until he's quietly crying because his throat really, really aches._

_Muffled voices come from the other side of the door. He can hear them well enough, though. He holds his breath, recognizing - ! It really is her!_

_"--give him whatever he needs! Who do you think I am?"_

_"But, mistress, he begged to have a meal made by--"_

_"Then do it and tell him I cooked it. It should be simple enough, yes? Off you go, or do you want me to snap your neck? Stupid girl."_

_Later, one of those maids enters with a tray of warm milk and recently baked cookies. They are burnt on the ends, and salty, but they tell him his mother made them. It's not as sweet as he'd like. It's not even tasty. But he shoves one after the other. He's still crying, he thinks. And he can't stop the tears._

_He vaguely wonders where Ayato and Laito have gone off._

\--- memory end ---

Yui is throwing up on the toilet, understandably enough. There is something unsettling about waxed bodies, stripped from integrity and used as playthings. You ended sticking the woman's arm whole and back to where it belonged. Super glue was a thing. It took you some time to wash it off, too.

You try to distract yourself from the whimpering mess on the bathroom floor. You are not her babysitter, and you can't take care of her 24/7. You won't always be around to help. She should learn this well. Maybe leaving her alone for a while would be for the best.

"[Name]?"

"Yes?"

She sniffled.

"Sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Alright." You glance around the doorway. "I'm here. So calm down."

She gave you a nod, and then made a double take at you.

"Um . . . "

"Yes?"

"You look a bit different."

You freeze.

"Oh. How so?"

"That's . . ." She washed her face on the sink, and then turned to face you once again. "I'm happy you're eating better, [Name]. You look more alive - that's the word I was looking for."

" . . . Yes. Me too."


	9. Argentum

**YOU SAT** in the limousine. The windows were tinted, as if needed. The sky was already pitch black. You tapped your foot to the rythm of a trendy radio song, and ignored the persistent stare of Laito. He knew something was off, unlike the rest. Kanato's listless gaze was too obvious. (And of course, Laito clearly remembered the scene you'd made with the teacher. In retrospect, you should've been more discreet. It made you suspicious enough, now.)

"Hey, Kanato~ did the cat get your tongue?" He lightly tapped a foot against the boy's ankle. "You are so quiet that it's creeping me out~."

Kanato scoffed. "I'm tired. Is that hard to see?"

"Well, the _crows_ did hurt you. Make sure to feed lots~ we already have an anemic." Words directed at you.

"Crows . . ."

Something akin to ice climbed over your back.

"Ah ah~ Reiji gave you the strongest thing he had, so you'll be back to your normal, hysteric self in no time." Laito waved Kanato off, not really caring about the latter's musings. "It's a shame we can't do like Shu, though! Reiji is such a fun-killer. I'd love to spend another bonding session with widdle dumb bitch."

"Please don't call me that!" Yui was ignored.

You could see Kanato's face reflected in the glass. Just a small frown. You focused on the streetlights the zoomed by.

"Widdle? Really?" Ayato's voice joined in. "Pfft, you sound stupid."

"Oh? I'm pretty sure I don't have your voice, you know?"

"Laito, I'm dunking you when we play basket. I swear."

"Too bad~ I'll play hooky~."

"Again?!"

You took solace when the limousine stopped and Kanato moved as per usual. He barked at the driver something about bringing sweets for the trip back, and strolled out of your sight. Maybe to the cafeteria. That he would remember was a slim chance . . . A sharp block of leather hit your head.

For whatever reason, Subaru glared at you and murmured freak and the like. You cataloged it as one of his antisocial tics, and reminded yourself to take care from his backpack.

"Whore~ hurry and come, hm? Or I might end eating this girl, hehe!"

\---

You had never played basketball with others. It was surprisingly boring. You darted past the girls and made a jump. A few gasped. You scored through the hoop, leaving the game at a final 20 : 0. Your team gathered around you and asked you a bunch of questions you were not interested in. The rest just stared. You adjusted your tennis shoe, and noticed the sole had cracked. You should hold yourself back more.

A whistle cut through the air.

"All right! [Name], was it? 'know this is a bit sudden, but I hope you don't mind playing with the boys." The coach was an older woman, hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and a half honest smile on her face. She leaned a bit closer to you. "Truth is, you might just show them not all girls are weak. They're going through a phase, you know? What do you say?"

"No, thank you."

She blinked. The smile died and she gave a nod. "Of course--"

"Oi! What's taking so long?" Ayato trotted beside you, a frown as he looked at the woman. "Didn't I tell you to bring her over?"

Red rose to her cheeks, and finally, she shook her head, opened her mouth--but you tapped her shoulder.

"I understand. I'll be going."

Utter relief flooded her face, wished you the best.

The court was wide. Good for running. Ayato had put you on the opposing team, leveled his gaze with yours, and grinned. "I'll make sure you know who's the best, watcher. Tell him when you return."

"Then start the game."

"You asked for it."

Ayato went to his teammates. You were sure he did everything by himself. If so, then maybe you could beat him. The group of boys huddled around you.

He wouldn't win this time.

A whistle rang and the game was on. Your shoes squeaked against polished ground, and as Ayato lunged at you, you made a pass at one of your teammates. The strategy was a simple one. You were sure the books called it the 'five-man weave', but it was enough for someone who made the world revolve around him.

When he tried to subtly teleport, it didn't matter when you predicted his next position. He might've been the glorified slammer, but with you getting in his way, the scores quickly told a different story.

\---

Ayato didn't talk to you afterward, sticking close to Yui instead. He teased her, calling her flat and titless and the like. Where had the other pet name gone? Pancake? Probably fell with his dignity somewhere -- you killed that thought. You had no place to think that, even though it was really true. You shouldn't have drunk Kanato's blood, either - now your train of thought was off.

Lunch came. You left Yui alone in that interval, too tired to be on the lookout with some new distraction for her well-being. A few bites wouldn't kill her. Right? Right. You shifted through the library, a relatively empty place with a senile woman for a watchdog. 

Stop.

You shook your head. The woman was alright, a bit old, but diligent and watchful. You fingered Romeo and Juliet, the obligatory reading for the semester. A slim hand plucked the book from your hands, wrapped an arm around your waist.

"This? I thought you had better taste."

"Shakespeare is cherished for good reason, Laito-san."

"Please, this book is so boring. Why don't I give you a good story instead?"

The old woman had disappeared from her post. You sighed. Laito turned you around and handed you a heavy enough tome. The author's name had been carved out, and the cover was beaten, old, dog-eared. The first pages were missing. Ripped out. The few next were of questionable contents. You didn't ask why he was carrying it around.

Maybe he read this kind of thing to his fangirls (asylum escapees).

"Come on, sit over here." He pulled you onto his lap, his breath hitting your nape. "Don't move too much, hm? It might make me feel things~."

"Then let me go."

"No can do~!" He was serious.

You flipped to a random page.

"I couldn't wait any longer. I prepared myself to enter her ripe-red, plundered passage, to open her up, so her sugar-sweet juices flowed out like honey, dripping down. I swallowed her nectar and then I sucked, my desire like a starving beast." Your monotone voice echoed. "Is this enough?"

"Hm~ it's disappointing, if anything. Petite whore, do you ever blush? How far do I have to go to see that?" His left hand dragged your shirt up, tracing your ribs and reaching farther. You gripped his wrist, made him stop.

"You won't." You paused, not sure what else to add.

"Hm. Then I'll make you love my touch, bitch." And he thrust his hand into your skirt.

Your elbow dug into his throat. A simple reflex. Your nails ripped skin away - ripped that second hand off you. The outcome was the scraping of the chair against linoleum, and the distance between you and him of a meter. You'd thrown yourself far away. He giggled, and stared at you from the floor. It was a face devoid of feeling.

The bell rang.

"You know, there is only piece of advice I'm willing to give you right now."

You sprinted out the library, a small window of time before Laito caught up to you.

"Run." And run you did.

\---

There were two things you needed by your side to lose him. Speed and unpredictability. You winced as the window's remains fell around you, having jumped from the third floor, but didn't stay for more than a few seconds. As you slinked away from any line of sight, you felt a shard digging into your ankle. You chucked it away, limping. Didn't heal fast enough.

You threw yourself over some bushes and hit something that was not soft grass. Out of breath, you lifted your head. Ruby red eyes glared. For a second, you were not sure what to say. And then you heard Laito calling your name. Too close.

"If you don't get the fuck off, I'll call him over." Subaru growled, low enough to be a murmur.

What was your luck?

"Wait." You tried to disentangle yourself from him - but if you moved too much you'd be seen over the bush. And his patience thinned, quickly. He inhaled some air, ready to shout, but you shoved your hands to his mouth. He finally tried to lift himself up, but you wouldn't let him. Laito had to leave the nearby area. You felt teeth digging into a chunk of your hand, the bite of something feral. Right. You'd cut yourself with the shard - it was like putting a steak in front of a predator.

You felt something crack in your hand.

Laito's presence withdrew, in the direction of a fuller courtyard. Perhaps he thought you'd do the same as the other day, in the cafeteria. You sighed. The brief relief came to a stop when you felt Subaru jerk his knee up. You felt your brain glitch for a moment - the sensation wholly uncomfortable and it was like you were back with Laito and--an arm dragged you closer. When you tried to break his hold, he laughed. Blood was pouring from your hand.

"What? Did you think I was nicer than that degenerate?" He snorted. "Pain does nothing to you. I get that. But perverted moves make you panic, huh?"

A hand came up your throat. It tightened, cutting off all source of air, and still he smirked.

"Let's see if you're really a vampire. You told that bride, didn't you? Prove it."

Vampires didn't really need to breathe. But you did.

You kicked his crotch - an action that happened before you thought it - and heard an intake of breath and a loss of strength from his part. It took him less than a second to slam your head against the ground, and the rest to catch both your wrists above your head. Dry leaves and thin twigs cracked. You were stuck underneath. His other hand reached for your tie, but you beat him to it.

To the biting, that was. He yelped in pain - and while all you wanted was to keep the inevitable from happening, you'd just made things worse altogether. He took a deep breath, and did what you loathed the most - he knew. His right knee slipped between your legs, pressing. You flinched, teeth sinking even farther into his hand. Then he started applying pressure to your jaw.

"I will rip it off."

The thought made you cough, let him go, and he smiled.

"Lick it."

You wondered why you were struggling so much if in the end he'd win. Brute force. You pushed the bile and the heartbeat down your throat. Everything felt cold, but it would be over if you did things quickly. That was how you got by.

You tentatively took one of his fingers in - the blood borderline sweet but not quite - and felt him pressing his thumb farther in. You closed each of the cuts you'd made, in the end. You couldn't bring yourself to look at anything. All you could see was red. Blood rushed to your face - and heat pressed behind your eyes. 

He scoffed.

"Stop struggling." The tie was mechanically undone, and his hand quickly opened your shirt. He pulled the sleeve down, almost ripping the fabric, and sunk bone into flesh. His hand squeezed both of your wrists, hard. You felt the blood trickle. Everything turned light. Then there was the forceful taste of iron and spices. He took his time with you - tongue dragging slowly. Two fangs on your lower lip, tortuous and uncaring. Red dripped down your chin. He tried to deepen the kiss, but stopped.

He blushed, mouth half-parted, face showing the beginning of a frown. "You're supposed to fight, not - not return it! The hell is wrong with you?"

"It's what you wanted."

The dead tone froze him, for a second. The embarrassed and pathetic face (not that he'd hated it - at all) was gone, and the difference left him cold. His hand immediately went to your chest, heavy on thin fabric. "Then I won't stop at a simple kiss. Is that what you want?"

"I don't have a choice, Subaru-san." You paused. "Do I?"

And then he was off, gone. You shakily sat up, gripping the green stalks of not-quite-blooming flowers around you. Truly, you hated this.

\--- memory 02 ---

_Subaru tried to keep it alive, but it died. A dog was not like demons - or that beautiful garden outside his father's castle. A pet like that wasn't supposed to last long. Maybe that's why everyone hated normal things, because they couldn't be kept and loved forever. He tucked the cardboard box into his arms, sealed shut. He began the trek down. The tower was really big, but he became accustomed to it. He became used to his mother's screams, too. That's why he needed a quiet place for himself._

__

He took a path, the one made by him, and jumped over fallen trees, and broken branches, and went around rocks and boulders. It took him some time before he arrived.

The clearing had flowers that truly wilted. He would dig a grave, there. And then new seeds would sprout over the mound, like the books said. A cycle. It took him hours of digging, and then he laid the box, and covered it with rich soil and tears. He slapped himself because crying did nothing. And he was weak.

And everything died, except the things he really wanted dead.

No, that was wrong. He wanted his mom, alive. But could you love someone and at the same time want to be far, far away from them? Or was that hate? He didn't know, and he didn't have anybody to ask. When he made it back, the maids were running in a frenzy, something about Cordelia's children. He ran away from the noise.

Maybe his mom would be okay this time. He quietly trailed upstairs, and readied himself before entering her room. Or tried to, because he heard strange voices. His mom and someone else . . .

"You know you love me." The man said, in his sure, steady voice.

"N-o! I hate you, oh - how I hate you - !" And his mother cried out, and he heard the slam of something against the walls, over and over. It was a mess of sobs and uncaring laughter, mockery and degrading insults. And Subaru couldn't even drown out the sounds with small hands, nor move away from there, frozen with a flurry of emotions in his heart.

The tears fell, and what could he do? What could he, both bastard and burden, do? He finally turned and ran. Locked himself in a closet. In the darkness where everything was muffled was comfort - the only kind he knew.

__

\--- memory end ----


End file.
